


Prosopagnosia

by Seveneves



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, One Shot, Other, Prosopagnosia, Shizaya bonus?, cursing, i'm Shizaya trash, kind of Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya, kind of not, one-sided Shizurona, plot?, sick shizuo, there's a bonus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seveneves/pseuds/Seveneves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orihara, Izaya was great at recognizing people. He always was.</p>
<p>This was something everyone accepted as a fact.</p>
<p>But the truth is, he’s only so amazing at distinguishing between the people he knows because he can identify them by individual peculiarities, clothing styles, and voices.</p>
<p>Now, what if Shizuo's appearance momentarily changed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prosopagnosia

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing a fanfiction. OTL  
> Thank you for choosing to read this weird idea I had. Haha, is there even plot in this?!  
> Please forgive all the grammatical and spelling errors.  
> Please read the tags too.  
> Thoughts that the characters have are in italics and have apostrophes around them. Sound effects are italicized too, but there are no apostrophes.  
> Well, I hope you enjoy reading!

Orihara, Izaya was great at recognizing people. He always was.

This was something everyone accepted as a fact.

But the truth is he’s only so amazing at distinguishing between the people he knows because he can identify them by individual peculiarities, clothing styles, and voices.

 

~~~~

 

     “Namie, could you take a look at this photo for me? I’d like you to confirm whether or not this poor soul’s face matches the one Shiki-san asked me to investigate.”

     Izaya held up a photo next to the digital image on his monitor, then kicked himself away from his desk. With a smirk and a glint in his eyes, he waved the picture between his fingertips and continued, “It shouldn’t be that hard of a task for you to complete, ne~?”

     “Again?” she grunted, not looking up once from the pile of folders in front of her. “Check it yourself. You’re more than capable of doing that.”

     The informant placed his right foot on the ground and touched the wallet-sized photo to his stretched lips. Pushing off of the ground with his toes, he spun his leather chair around.

     Izaya threw his head back and laughed as his seat whirled at a dizzying speed. Sometime in the middle of the chaos, he let go of his target’s printed out face, and it fluttered to the ground.

     “It seems you have forgotten who’s willing to pay you for your services, Namie-chan! I do believe that is no way for a secretary to speak towards her employer!”

     “Don’t call me that.”

     Namie put down the papers she had been holding and stomped her way to the picture. Picking up the image, she positioned it next to the monitor and huffed. “The eyes and mouth don’t match.”

     She put the print down on his desk, sighing. “Could you not call me over so often? The people you pick almost never look like the person that you ask for. What are you? Blind?”

     As he slowed down from his spinning high, Izaya rested his cheek on his hand with a sneer present on his face. “No, I am not. I just want to mess with you a little. Let me tell you that your reactions are priceless. You’re free to go back now.” He waved his free hand, brushing off the topic.

     With a roll of her eyes, she crossed her arms in front of her green turtleneck sweater and went to her original spot. “I’m not getting paid enough for this,” she muttered.

     “Ah. What did you say?” The raven in all black cupped his ear and leaned toward where Namie sat.

     An empty mug was flying directly towards his face; however, instead of dodging it, Izaya caught the cup by its handle to avoid it from shattering his stunning floor-to-ceiling windows. He twirled the ceramic object around his finger and chuckled.

     “Oh, Namie, if this incoming projectile were to wreck my windows, the repair cost would have come out of your paycheck.” He glanced at his secretary to see if she had been paying attention to his words. “You should really think your actions through with, you know, your brain?”

     Receiving only the cold shoulder, the raven lost interest in continuing. He rolled his chair back to his desk and resumed retrieving information for the yakuza boss.

_‘I’m not blind, thank you very much. They just looked the same to me,’_ Izaya jokingly pouted, then as he hacked his way through a set of website firewalls, a grin creeped its way back onto his face.

     The raven expected for the former Chief of Yagiri Pharmaceuticals to recognize his face blindness after all the times he called her over to match portraits.

     People could be so ignorant. Well, it didn’t matter to him, since he was keeping others from the truth anyways.

     The reality that he never recognized others by their faces.

_‘Humans are so interesting.’_

 

~~~~

 

     “Namie, let’s play a game! Which of these men match the one I’m looking for?” The informant held out the same photograph as before and pointed to a screen filled with images, some not even close to the one he was looking for.

     He could tell that a few were extremely different, but hey, who said he couldn’t have some more fun?

     Without putting up much resistance, Namie strolled over to his computer.

     “None,” she replied.

     Taking out his laptop, the raven pried it open and revealed another page-worth of pictures. He then pulled out a cell phone and frowned.

     “Third man from the left. Second row,” his secretary responded.

     “Are you sure~?”

     “Yes, I am! I can tell faces apart, though none of them matter to me.” She paused.

     “Seiji’s face is the only one I need to recognize.” Namie tapped her pointer finger on her bicep in an annoyed fashion, glaring daggers at the man who highlighted the thumbnail she picked.

     Izaya turned off his monitor then stood up. “Wouldn’t it be sad to not be able to differentiate between people’s faces?” he shrugged, voice dripping in thick honey.

     “Like I said, I only need to know Seiji’s face. . . And he should also only be able to know mine. That’ll keep him from loving that head.” An arm lifted from its previously crossed fashion to touch her chin, and the corners of Namie’s mouth lifted ever so slightly, that only her employer could notice.

     Izaya could guess what was on her mind. _‘So predictable,’_ he thought.

     “But you know,” he began, “things don’t work out so perfectly like that. Having face blindness would keep you from remembering even your younger brother’s face.”

     The informant grabbed his signature fur-trimmed jacket and headed towards the door.

     “What are you implying?”

     “Hmm, nothing really. I’ll be visiting Ikebukuro now! See you, darling!” The door closed behind him as he exited with a wink.

     Namie scrunched her face in disgust while resuming her job, dismissing the clues given by her boss.

 

~~~~

 

     With water dripping head to toe and missing sunglasses, Shizuo clutched the man, who was responsible for drenching the blonde, by his throat.

     “Give. Give. I give. Uncle!” The indebted gambler tapped the other’s wrist with one hand, hoping to be let go of. His other hand’s grip on the green hose trembled, eventually letting the tube fall to wet concrete.

     The blonde finally complied, and the victim landed straight on his tailbone. Frantically crawling into the safety of his homely abode, the man threw the sought out money behind him.

     “A-achoo!” The cold January wind sent a chill down Shizuo’s spine as he went to pick up the wad of cash.

     “Shizuo. . . You should get changed before we go to the next guy, since we have time to spare,” Tom suggested while Shizuo handed him the money.

     “Affirmative. Cold and wet conditions weaken the body’s immune system which will leave it susceptible to catching viruses. Shizuo-senpai should dry himself off.”

     Patting Vorona on her head, Shizuo’s face softened. “Got it.” He turned his head to his boss. “Thanks.”

     Sneezing again, the debt collector rubbed his nose as he strode towards a close-by department store. He wasn’t the richest man, but his apartment was too far away. He didn’t want to make Tom and Vorona wait too long.

_‘I wonder if the cashier will accept wet money.’_

 

~~~~

 

     Resting his cheek on his knuckles and looking out the limousine window, Izaya observed his beloved humanity.

     “Orihara-san, I hope you understand the importance of what I asked you to look into.”

     “Oh please Shiki-san, are my skills really that unreliable?” the raven scoffed as he waved his free hand.

     The white-suited man fiddled with the ring on his finger then sighed. “You’ve proven your skills worthy through what you’ve accomplished; however, that still does not prove anything. If you’d call yourself a part of Awakusu, I wouldn’t have to ask every time. By belonging to no one, you might as well be with the enemy. No funny business, Orihara-san. You’ll regret it.”

     With mock-hurt displayed on his face, said informant placed thin fingers on his chest to show how “offended” he was.

     Shiki showed no sign of playing along. And with that, Izaya dropped his act and put on his signature smirk. “Well, while I can’t promise anything for later, I can say I have no intentions as of now-”

     The vehicle slowed down at a stop light as a couple passed by. The girl clung to her significant other like her life depended on it. By the scar on the girl’s neck, the raven reasoned that it was Harima, Mika and the brother of his incestuous secretary. Taking out a cell phone, he snapped a picture of them and sent it to Namie. How he enjoyed anticipating how the woman would react.

     “But really,” he continued, “for you to increase my load from investigating one human to two different people. How terrible~.”

     Releasing yet another sigh, Shiki handed the other the manila folder with a small photo paper-clipped to it. “Just get on with it.”

     Izaya opened the door and stepped out of the limo before closing it gently. Placing the folder into his jacket, the raven waved to his client as the chauffeur rolled the window up.

     “I-ZA-ya!” a voice called.

     Subsequently, a large hand grasped the raven’s shoulder.

     Large build, heavy Russian accent, sale sign. Without a doubt, the informant reasoned, the man who called out his name was Simon.

     “Simon,” Izaya greeted, “how nice of us to meet! To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

     “Should be my line! No matter, come eat sushi!” The Russian man pointed to the poster-board in his grip. “Try our new rose sushi! It cheap, you know?”

     The smaller of the two shrugged with his hands pointing outward and shook his head. “No thanks. I’ll stick to ootoro. You should know my tastes by now.”

     In a whisper, the Russian spoke in his native tongue. “What are you up to this time?”

     “Just fulfilling a client’s needs. Nothing too grandiose,” Izaya fluently replied.

     “Keep out of shady business, Izaya.” Simon lightly pushed the smaller one through the open entrance.

     Izaya’s response was a simple smirk.

     Changing back to his first language upon entering the restaurant, he shouted, “Hey, Dennis! I’m ordering two ootoro platters to go!”

     The raven decided not to catch up with current affairs in the city with his little helpers, since he wasn’t planning on staying for long. He was not going to spend too much time in Ikebukuro and risk running into a certain protozoan.

 

~~~~

 

     Shizuo left the shop with a plain long-sleeved shirt, a pair of skinny jeans (because they were cheaper), a pair of white socks and underwear, and a bag to carry his unusable bartender outfit. Parts of his loafers were still wet, but he didn’t really mind.

     He dried himself the best he could with the restrooms’ paper towels, though his newly purchased apparel clung to his body anyways.

     NOT that anyone was complaining. In fact, not many seemed to recognize him as the dangerous Beast of Ikebukuro especially when his damp hair gave his golden strands a darker tone and tamed stray ones.

     “Ah-CHOO!” Shizuo sneezed thrice more after startling the pedestrians around him. He pondered whether he took too much time strangling the man or not. Either way, he caught something during the period of time between getting soaked and getting dried off.

     “Yo, sorry for making you guys wait so long,” The blonde said with a nasal voice.

     The trio was about to make their way to the next man on their list, but Shizuo stopped without a warning. Despite his stuffy nose as a handicap, there was no mistaking the stench that reached his lungs.

     It was the smell of an annoying flea, and there the bastard was, striding ignorantly out of Russia Sushi.

     Dropping the plastic bag, the former bartender traveled quickly towards his target.

     “Izayaaaaa~!” he drawled out, stuffy nose and all.

     But before the blonde could punch the piece of crap in front of him, the raven sidestepped while turning around.

     “Well, nice to meet you too-” Laughing, Izaya placed down his plastic bag as he ducked the incoming limb. “Heh~. It’s always a delight to be greeted with such intense passion.”

     The debt collector swung once more, only to miss making contact again.

     “Hmm.” Izaya squinted, dodging every punch and kick, “You don’t seem to be a client nor a victim. Were you hired? Or perhaps someone close to you despises me?”

     “Shut up” was the response.

     Shizuo kept swinging without a weapon, even though he never managed to hit his target. His limbs felt heavy, like they were moving through molasses. Every movement didn’t feel right, and he felt weaker. His face felt flush, though not with anger.

      _‘Dammit,’_ he thought, _‘I must’ve gotten a fever.’_

     “I see you bear some hatred towards me, ne~. No matter, since I love humans all the same.” Izaya whipped out his beloved switchblade. “How about we have some fun?”

     The blonde couldn’t hear Izaya’s strangely aimed sentence over the blood rushing in his ears, so they brawled rhythmically. Shizuo’s attacks were redundant and took the same amount of time for each. A left hook, a roundhouse kick, an attempted headbutt, a right jab, and repeat.

     Too focused on the little moment between them, the two didn’t realize that the number of those attacking Izaya increasing by one.

     Vorona had joined in sometime during the fight.

     Suddenly, she put out an arm, preventing Shizuo from moving forward. “Please let me take care of this. You are unwell.”

     With wide eyes, Izaya inspected the two curiously. “My, my, what is this? I do not believe my eyes, but I must. Crow-chan, are you perhaps with this gentleman, here?”

     “Affirmative,” she replied glaring at the informant. She and a calmer Shizuo were somewhat perturbed with the raven’s use of “gentleman” when speaking about the debt-collector; however they ignored the terminology.

     “What a surprise!” he exclaimed. “I must say I’m genuinely taken aback. My information told me that you had a crush on Shizu-chan, yet here you are, on a date with another man.”

     This made the duo stop in their tracks. What was Izaya saying?

     It sounded as if Izaya. . . didn’t know Shizuo was right there in front of him.

     The former bartender growled, knowing the “shitty flea” was up to something. Feeling both dread and anger, Vorona’s eyes widened then glared at the man in black.

     “Humans really are interesting. If you can’t have the real deal, you get a substitute, ne~?”

     “What the hell, flea!? I’m Heiwajima, Shizuo!” The fake-blonde strode towards the raven.

     The raven froze at the nickname. His mask fell for a moment, but it was back on before anyone noticed.

How was Izaya supposed to know what Shizuo looked like without his bartender outfit, strange weapon, tousled golden hair, sunglasses, and deep, husky voice when those were all he recognized the other with?

How was he supposed to know that the previous indebted man had been startled when he was watering his wife’s garden?

How was he supposed to know that the frightened man blasted Shizuo with the garden hose?

How was he supposed to know that Shizuo changed clothes and caught a cold from being drenched?

Izaya didn’t, and he had made a grave mistake of not knowing.

     “Heh. Yeah, and I’m Hanejima, Yuuhei. Funny joke.” Izaya, taking steps back, turned to Vorona. “What. You made this guy pretend to be Shizu-chan? You really like the brute that much?” His usually confident voice lacked its bite, yet it still had all the arrogant undertones.

     Relieved Shizuo was always dense, Vorona sent daggers at the informant with her eyes and charged at him again. “Negative. He is Shizuo-senpai.”

     Analyzing the strange faces made at him, Izaya chuckled. He had realized his fault and decided to improvise.

     “Ha. Hahahah. Hahahahahahahahaha!!”

     His laughter grew louder and more certain until he needed to clutch his stomach in time to move out of a heel’s intended destination. “Your expressions are priceless. You’ve completely met my expectations!”

     The corners of his lips tugged towards his ears as he bluffed. “This why I love humans. They’re so easily manipulated, so easily controlled. Did you two believe my little act? Did you enjoy it? I did.”

     “Oh, and Shizu-chan, you better fix that cold of yours quick. A monster like you shouldn’t act like a weak human; it’s disgusting.”

     He bent down for his ootoro while blocking a blow from Vorona. “Bye-bye, Crow-chan,” he whispered. “How fortunate for Shizu-chan to be so dense, ne~?”

     Hopping away, Izaya didn’t look back.

     It wasn’t that he couldn’t look back, it was a matter of not wanting to.

     “Izaayaaaaaaaa-kun!! Get back here, so I can beat you up!” The debt collector yelled at the diminishing figure.

     Out of breath, the blonde stumbled backwards, dazed as to why his sense of balance seemingly malfunctioned. “Huh, that’s weir-”

     The world flipped and swirled; stars started to form in his vision, and Shizuo collapsed after seeing everything fade to black.

     As Vorona was about to reach for the male, a voice piped in.

     “Ah, don’t worry. I’ll help.” Tom came in, picking his bodyguard up and slung one arm over his shoulder. “We’ll get the last guy tomorrow.”

     Nodding, the Russian beauty picked up Shizuo’s belongings and lifted the other arm.

     Tom nodded back, and the two left for the sick man’s home.

 

~~~~

 

     Breathing heavily against his front door, the raven unlocked it to find an annoyed Namie.

     “Care to explain this?” she snapped, shoving her phone in his face. The photo he sent was at focus.

     “Ah~. You see, I wanted to show you how love should really be. Perhaps this will be a lesson on your incestuous ways.”

     Confused, her eyebrows scrunched together. “Haah? Why would this nobody couple affect my love for Seiji? I’m irritated because while you were having fun in Ikebukuro, I was stuck here doing your stupid work for you. I demand you pay me more this week.”

     “Any couple should be a good role model for you, despite how insignificant they may be. Also, I was there for business reasons, mind you.” Though he brushed off her words lightly, they impacted him more than one would think.

     “How about I let you off earlier today instead?” he negotiated.

     It was obvious his offer was not as valuable as her request, but getting done earlier meant more time spent with her love interest.

     “Deal.” She took off without another word.

     “...”

_‘Dammit,’_ the informant thought.

      _Thud._ Izaya resolved himself to punch his wall. He’d fucked up. Not just once, but twice in one day. He’d majorly messed up.

     Resting his head against the wall he hit, the raven recalled his mistakes. First, he took a picture of some random couple which he thought was Mika and Seiji. Then, he almost revealed his weakness to his blonde enemy.

     He wasn’t worried about his secretary finding out about his little mental disability. No, she could know, and he wouldn’t give a fuck. The incident with the photo was a signal that he was slipping up, which Orihara, Izaya did NOT do. At least, not often.

     He needed to mentally strengthen himself, lose the carelessness he had displayed, lose his assumption-ready mind. The informant needed to get rid of his complacent attitude.

     The look in his eyes he had that moment was something not even Harima, Mika knew. He conveniently punched--and broke for the matter--one of the cameras she had hidden. The others were simply not in the right angles to capture the moment.

     In summary, his eyes held the truth, the truth that he never showed anyone. His real emotions were an enigma, and that was how they would always be, prosopagnosia or not.

     Orihara, Izaya from that day on never slipped up again.

 

 

~~~~~~~~

 

 

Bonus

     Staring at the gravel beneath him, Shizuo somewhat regained consciousness while being propped up by a senpai and a kouhai.

     “...fucking tick...” the blonde man mumbled. “....so fucking annoying…”

     “Shizuo-senpai, are you feeling better?” Vorona received no answer to her question and reasoned that he was still half-asleep.

     “...........Fuck him and all his shady business..”

     Tom and Vorona let their sick, tired coworker rant and continued to trudge towards Shizuo’s apartment.

     “Fucking Hate…..Him……..” The ex-bartender’s words were slowly increasing in volume.

     “...Gonna Kill..The Little……Bastard!”

     Bunching his eyebrows together, Shizuo nearly shouted the next few words:

     “I…….I WILL FUCKING…………………..…………………………..FUCK IZAYA!”

     The few pedestrians around them dropped whatever they had been holding. Shocked and slightly hurt, Vorona let go of the arm she had been carrying. Tom let go at the loud yell too, though more out of reflex than anything else.

     The impact of the fall woke Shizuo up further, but he was still delirious. “It’s hot.”

     “...” All eyes were on him.

     “Going to Izaya’s,” he announced, standing up unsteadily.

     “Wait, why?” Tom inquired.

     “To…...to………to...” The blonde blanked out on the verb he was searching for.

     Growing angry, he blamed his forgetfulness on Izaya, since the fleabag was behind 99% of the shit that went around in Ikebukuro.

     “Argh! Fuck the flea!”

     “Shizuo, calm down. Nothing good comes with...Ahem…um Izaya,” Tom argued.

     “Of course nothing good comes with fucking Izaya! It’s fucking Izaya, after all!” the former bartender stated.

     “...”

     “I’m goin’ now.”

     Dark brown dreads and soft, blonde waves latched onto Shizuo.

     “Stop! You’ll regret it!” Tom shouted.

     “Don’t stop me, Tom-san! This is something I have to do!” he tugged.

     Vorona unwound her arms, and Tom was dragged three feet along the pavement.

     “Shizuo-senpai, I will be apologizing in advance for what I’m about to do.” With a swift motion, she brought her heel down onto Shizuo’s head.

     Still weak from his fever, the pseudo-blonde collapsed once again.

     Though the incident only lasted a short amount of time, the news spread like wildfire in a matter of minutes.

                       “Hey did you hear? Shizaya is real!”

“What? No way! They hate each other!”

                                                 “No, it’s true! I saw it with my own eyes!”

                                                                                                                                “Heiwajima said he was going to Izaya’s place to fuck him!”

“You’re wrong, they’re going to make love!”

 

~~~~

 

     Somewhere in Shinjuku, Izaya logged into the Dollar’s homepage and read the newest thread.

     “....” Izaya wasn’t sure if he wanted to face-palm or destroy his phone.

     “The unpredictable brute.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prosopagnosia-the inability to recognize faces.


End file.
